


Hallow's Eve

by DevilishKurumi



Series: Midlife Crisis [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol, Gen, Halloween, Unrealized Crushes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-18
Updated: 2012-11-18
Packaged: 2017-11-18 22:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/566178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevilishKurumi/pseuds/DevilishKurumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat hates Halloween, but he enjoys drinking with his apparent new best friend.  Written for Halloween 2012.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hallow's Eve

            It's three in the afternoon and you're already getting knocks on the door.  You're pretty sure school isn't even supposed to be out yet, but there they are - grubby little fuckers in shitty Wal-Mart costumes begging for candy that their parents can't just go fucking buy for them to save you the time and the energy of looking at their dumb faces.

            Your mom laughs and gives out full-sized candy bars; you glare at the grabby-handed kids until the door's shut.  You'd really hoped she'd give those out last.

            No matter what holiday it is, you're always required to come spend part of the day with your parents.  Most of the time you don't really mind, since your mom makes lunches big enough to be dinner for a family of six, but Halloween is always such a pain in the ass.  It's not even a real holiday, it's just some bullshit adapted from pagan rituals to sell candy and overpriced masks.  And liquor.  Lots of liquor.

            Speaking of - you have a bottle of pumpkin liqueur in your fridge and you really want to get back to it.  You'd intended to share it with Sollux, but you're pretty sure he's probably busy with the Striders, and you don't want to get mixed up in that shit.

            Your dad puts on _The Worst Witch_ , and you are officially in hell.  The kind of hell you can't leave until after you've gotten stuffed on home cooking.  It's the most horrifying, irreconcilable kind of hell imaginable.

            "-and that little princess!  So cute, I can't believe how elaborate these costumes have gotten!"

            You tune back in to your parents' discussion just in time to hear mom say, "Karkat, do you remember when you wanted to be a princess for halloween?"

            "I didn't want to be a _princess_ ," you snap, and dad punches your shoulder.  "I wanted to be a _crab_."

            "Looks like you got your wish," your dad says, and punches you again.  You punch him back, and your mom intervenes with a look to your dad that stops him cold.

            "You wanted to be from _The Little Mermaid_ ," she says.

            " _The crab_ , not the mermaid!"

            Both of your parents stare at you until you're forced to hold your tongue and frown at the television.  At least she hadn't brought up the Mötley Crüe fiasco of '99.

            Thankfully, lunch doesn't take much longer to get ready, and your parents are too busy stuffing their faces like you to bother bringing up your terrible high school Halloween experiences.  You even manage to get out of candy duty for the night, so you don't have to hang around after you help clean the kitchen.

            Seriously, all you want is to get drunk and watch terrible horror movies and hope that nobody knocks on your door.  It's already a quarter 'til six, so hopefully kids will get the fuck home before too long.

            The drive back to your apartment is a fucking mess, mostly because you have to drive through a busy part of town and, of course, people are out getting drunk.  You nearly run into a girl wearing a white and orange mini-dress when she stumbles out into the street, and you force yourself not to roll down your window when you start swearing at her and her gaggle of co-ed friends.

            There are a lot of kids in the apartment complex, so you really shouldn't be surprised at how they're all hanging out in their store bought costumes, but it's still more than a little irritating when you nearly run over a smashed pumpkin on your way to your spot.

            You know that your mom kind of hates that you don't like holidays like she and dad do, but you can't help it.  It's just... not worth it, most of the time.  It hasn't been since you started working and paying your own rent and bills.  Couple that with the fact that everyone acts like a total fucking moron whenever stores start selling seasonal products, and you've got a recipe for disaster.

            You get your door unlocked and halfway open before you hesitate, looking over your shoulder to Sollux's door.  There's a shitty Dollar Tree skeleton taped to the inside of the window, facing out and holding a paper sign that says "NO CANDY" in bright red sharpie.

            At least Sollux doesn't seem to feel all that great about the holiday either.  Then again, he might just be out with Dave and Dirk.  You try not to think about it, and you slam your door extra hard behind you.

            One of the few things you've splurged on in the past few months is extended cable, and you silently reassure yourself that it was all worth it when you put on Starz and find them in the middle of an unedited gorefest.  You might not like the trick or treaters, and you might hate the idea of a commercialized holiday that was originally supposed to be some kind of holy day for an ancient religion, but you sure as fuck can get behind the massive influx of horror movie marathons that come on during the season.  Sure, you like romances and comedies a lot more - especially combined - but that doesn't mean you can't be in the mood for some dumbasses getting torn apart every now and then.

            You mix pumpkin liqueur with vodka and fall into your futon, digging around in your bag with your foot until you manage to find the popcorn ball that your mom had given you on the way out.  You fucking hate popcorn, but you'll eat it anyway, because you'd hate to lie to your mom and say that you did when you didn't.

            You are fully aware of your status as the biggest fucking momma's boy this side of the continental United States, and you'll fight anyone for that title.

            You get about halfway through your impromptu martini when the doorbell rings.  You groan and turn up _The Amnityville Horror_ and hope that they'll get the hint, but they just keep ringing the doorbell.  A little girl shouts, "Trick or treat!"

            _Ugh._

            No, fucking fine.  You can deal with this.  Your mom gave you a whole bag of cheap candy to take home, and you hate dumdums, so fuck it.  You climb out of your comfortable slump and make your way to the door, grabbing the bag of cheap candy on your way.  When you fling it open, you find an Ariel and a shitty vampire standing on your bare doorstep, holding open bags up as though asking for offerings to soothe their bloodlust.

            "Trick or treat!" they shout.

            "If you tell everyone that 201 ran out of candy, I'll give you the whole bag," you say.  The little girl grins and nods excitedly.

            "Yeah, okay!"

            You rip the bag open and dump half of it into her bag.  Then, you look at the vampire.  "You have to promise," you say, shaking the bag.

            "Sure," he says, and you dump the rest of it into his plastic pumpkin.  The two run off, giggling, and you roll your eyes as you shut the door behind you.

            You get almost all the way settled back in when there's a knock on your door.  With a frustrated groan, you get up and swing the door open, already geared up for a rant.  "I don't have any candy, I just gave the last bit away, if you don't leave me alone-"  Sollux raises his eyebrows at you, and you stop mid-sentence.  "Oh.  It's you."

            "Yeah."  You shift from foot to foot awkwardly, and then Sollux rolls his eyes and holds out a half-empty bottle of tequila and a bag of Reese's.  "Are you going to let me in, or what?"

            You do, snatching the bottle of tequila out of his hand before standing aside so he can come in.  You lock the door behind him, just in case more kids come.  (Or the Strider twins.  You're pretty sure they're stalking Sollux.)

            "Sorry about that, uh, yelling at you and shit," you say, turning to find Sollux already sitting on your couch.  You almost argue, but honestly, it's where you'd tell him to sit anyway.  It's weird having someone prepared to be so at home in your apartment, is all.

            "It's cool, kids suck."  He holds out the bag of candy as you approach, and you gladly snag a few single-wrapped cups before he digs through it himself.  "Three groups already rang my doorbell, even with the sign."

            "Which was a dirty lie, because you're here hording all your candy."

            "Yep."  Sollux slouches back into your sofa, and you let yourself relax.  "Got anything to drink?"

            "Other than the tequila you just brought me?  Yeah, I've got some shit.  Hold on."

            You mix another shitty martini together and hand it over before finally settling in, your own solo cup refreshed.  You don't like drinking liquor out of your glasses unless you really feel like being classy.

            And apparently tonight, you are the furthest from classy that you can get, because you find yourself blurting out, "I thought you'd be partying with Dave and Dirk."

            Sollux shrugs.  "They invited me out, but fuck that, I need my downtime."  He pauses, then glances across the couch at you.  You pretend not to have noticed.  "Uh.  Sorry about - you know.  That.  They came over to cheer me up, or some shit."

            "Is that how you cheer up?" you ask, and then wince.  "Shit, no, fucking ignore me.  It's none of my business."

            "I guess it isn't," he agrees.  You fret over whether or not you've made a complete ass of yourself, and whether or not he's going to say anything else, right up until he adds, "I don't know, not really.  But they're good kids.  Guys.  Whatever."  He slugs back his drink like a man on a mission.  "Seriously, though.  You're the only person I know around here, so...  I don't want you to think I'm some kind of fucking deviant or something, because of what you saw."

            "I don't," you say, and you reach over to grab the liquor bottles, pulling them closer so that Sollux can make himself another drink.  He does exactly that.  "Don't worry about it.  Just... you know.  Be careful, and shit.  They're kind of weird, I don't know them that well but..."

            "They're weird, yeah," Sollux says as he pours the vodka, sounding a little distant.

            "Just don't let them get too into your head, I guess," you say, but Sollux doesn't really respond and so you're forced to drop the subject.  "You want to watch something else?"

            "Fuck no," he says, leaning back with a lopsided grin, "Horror movies are fucking awesome."

            You spend the next hour or two drinking and watching the end of _Amityville_ , before flipping over to some channel playing an unedited version of _Texas Chainsaw Massacre_.  The two of you go through almost all of the pumpkin liqeur, which is good because you don't need to keep that shit around, and when you check your watch next, it's half-past midnight.

            You wonder if Sollux wants something to eat.  Candy's good and all, but liquor kind of requires... bread.  Or something.  You don't know.  You've got a full fridge, though, so you might as well offer.

            "Hey, you want anything to eat?"

            Sollux doesn't respond, and after a moment, you drag your eyes away from the screen and blearily look over at him.  You're a little surprised to find him passed out, his head leaning against the back of the futon.  Shit.  You hadn't even realized he'd passed out.  You guess you're a little surprised, because he doesn't seem to really shut down, as far as you've noticed.  You'd pass out way before him the few times you'd drank with him.

            You click the volume down and then get up to get something to eat.  When you come back with a late-night sandwich and a glass of water, Sollux is still asleep, which you guess is okay.  You'll wake him up in an hour and send him back to his place to crash.  You drop your sandwich onto the table so you can sit down unimpeded, but when you shift into the cushions, Sollux's head drops against your shoulder.

            You leave the sandwich on the end table and try really hard not to move until Sollux stirs at two-thirty, stretching his arms over his head.  "Shit," he mumbles.  "I passed out."

            "Yeah," you say.  "You wanna go home?"

            "That's way too far," he groans, and then he leans up against you again.  "Wake me up in an hour, okay?"

            You nod.  He doesn't see it, so you add, "Uh.  Okay.  Sure."

            You let him sleep an hour and a half longer before you nudge him awake again.  He grins tiredly at you and struggles out of the futon.  "I'll text you later, okay?"

            "Uh.  Yeah."

            "Night," he says, flipping the lock.  After you watch him leave, you drink the rest of the liqueur and stare at the television until dawn.


End file.
